The Untold Stories
by black-rose495
Summary: A collection of one-shots from Dragon Age 2 featuring different Hawkes with their different partners. NSFW PWP
1. MHawke x Isabela - Act 2

Daveth Hawke sighed as he entered his mansion, tired after a day of killing idiot thugs and demons. Maker, there was no end to them, the never-ending string of morons willing to throw their lives away for some misguided cause. Orana greeted him as he took off his boots, ready to help him with his gear - not that he needed it.

"Master, mistress Isabela is waiting for you in the living room," she said quietly, undoing the clasp of his robes. He cringed at the name, insisting she call him by his name, or messere, or _anything_ other than master. He thanked the elf for her help, grabbed his casual robe, then went into the living room.

Isabela never came to visit him here in Hightown, preferring instead to get him drunk at the Hanged Man. "So this is where you live. Not bad." She looked around, "I preferred the old place though. It had more…charm."

Hawke laughed, "You're talking about the _shack _I shared with my mother, uncle and brother?"

"I meant Lowtown. Dirty, chaotic, _glorious _Lowtown." She began wandering around his living room. "The smell of tar and the sea, and the sound of some whore plying her trade in a back alley. Don't you miss that?"

Hawke's eyes followed her as she walked, his gaze falling upon her arse and breasts whenever her shirt moved and revealed her bronzed skin. Maker she was beautiful. But an absolute minx. _Perfect_. Isabela leaned against a pillar, waiting for his answer.

"Oh I don't know," he said. "It can be plenty dirty and chaotic in Hightown, if you know where to look." He smirked at her, knowing she would catch his meaning. Unlike Merrill, Isabela never missed an innuendo, the two of them often spending their time coming up with inventive and colourful double entendres.

He'd peaked her interest, "Ooo, sounds like you have something in mind." She closed the distance between them, pouting seductively at him, making sure he got a clear view of her chest. The rogue smirked when she saw his gaze lower, the mage taking a gulp as he tried to remain composed.

"Maybe, but I don't know if you'd be interested…" He moved away, playing her game. _Take control Daveth, make _her_ come to _you_. _She bit, following him towards the stairs.

_Blighted fool, what's he doing? Of course I'm interested! _"Come on Hawke, don't be a tease. Out with it."

The mage turned on his heel, Isabela nearly bumping into him in surprise, and grabbed her forearms in his hands. He smirked at her as she looked at him puzzled, wondering what he was waiting for. She was answered immediately, a shiver-inducing chill radiating from his hands, running down her spine and causing goose bumps to raise all over her skin. She moaned, pleasantly surprised by the mage, "Looks like you have my undivided attention Hawke."

Isabela pulled the mage down her to and kissed him, her tongue sneaking into his mouth with ease. His hands moved from her arms, pulling her closer to him, immediately falling on her luscious rear. The rogue broke the kiss first, a sly grin on her face. "Catch," she said, jumping up and forcing Daveth to catch her. Her arms wound around his neck whilst his hands reacquainted themselves with her rear, supporting her weight in his hands. She wrapped her legs around his waist and resumed kissing him, her weight shifting, sending him in the direction of what she assumed was his bedroom.

Still kissing, hands exploring, they fumbled into Hawke's bedroom. Daveth felt for Isabela's daggers and threw them down, his mouth never leaving her skin, his hands occasionally slipping from supporting her weight one-handed. Whilst his muscles were certainly impressive for a mage, he was no warrior and he was unused to lifting more than his staff. His calves hit the back of the bed and he fell backwards, Isabela landing on top of him.

Their hands roamed one another's bodies, grabbing and squeezing. Something hard dug into Isabela's thigh. After a moment of excitement she realised it was one of her daggers and sat up, retrieved the blade, then tossed it on the floor with the others. Hawke chuckled before being smothered by her lips again, the mage moaning into her as her tongue explored his mouth.

She was quick to get to business, her hands undoing the ties of his robes and trousers with expert swiftness. While she busied herself with his ties, Hawke's hands explored the vast amount of flesh already on display, her chest, her buttocks, her thighs. He sent small chills through his fingertips, raising her flesh where his hands went, making her moan into his mouth. Something pointy caught Hawke's attention and the mage fumbled with the unknown object, trying not to prick himself. _Another dagger? Maker, how many does she need? _He set it down on the bed, then resumed his exploration. He loved her curves. If there was one thing he liked in a woman it was a full figure, something she most definitely had.

Isabela pulled him up by his robe, so he was sat with her straddling his waist, and began undressing him, sliding his clothes off with ease. She purred appreciatively, surprised by his bulging biceps, his chiselled chest. Maker, why he wore those drab robes she'd never know. He was depriving the world of such a glorious sight! _And right now he's all mine. _She licked her lips hungrily, unsure of where to start.

Hawke saw the way she eyed him eagerly, like a child in a toy shop. She began kissing down his chest, her tongue flicking out when she reached his nipple, making him moan appreciatively. Her hands began tugging at his underclothing, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled her up. She pouted at the mage, wondering why he'd stopped her from letting her pleasure him.

She was answered quickly, Hawke retrieving the dagger from the bed and then using it to slice through what little clothing she had on. "Hey! I liked this outfit!" she said, annoyed. She was silenced by Hawke's mouth on hers, the rogue's argument quickly dying as his tongue began duelling with hers. His hands roamed her body again, peeling off her clothing as they went, lingering over each curve of her body.

His mouth trailed down up her neck to her ear, "I'd apologise, but I'm not sorry in the slightest." His mouth trailed back down her neck, past her golden collar. "If you're lucky though," he said in between kisses, "I may give you some clothes." His mouth reached her breasts, "Maybe, though quite frankly I'm enjoying you like this." He lavished her breasts with attention, kneading and massaging one while licking and kissing on the other, then swapping after a few minutes.

Maker, she always knew there was a reason she liked mages! His touch was like ice on her hot skin, a frozen inferno building between them. It sent chills of pleasure through her entire body, down each and every nerve, making her hair stand on end and her flesh raise. And she loved it. It was addictive and she wanted more.

Daveth's mouth trailed lower, his hands still leaving burning trails of cold as they teased her skin. Isabela tried to help him with her smalls, but he batted her hands away before removing them himself, his cerulean eyes locked with hers the entire time. She licked her lips in anticipation. Maker, those blue eyes promised so much with just one look. His shaggy white hair fell over his face then, covering him as he lowered his mouth to her core, a moan of relief and pleasure rumbling in Isabela's chest. His tongue began exploring her, the rogue moaning her encouragement to the heavens whenever he did something she liked, directing him with her hands when he didn't. Cold sparks shot through her core, making her see stars. She begged him to keep going, scolding him when he didn't immediately do the ice trick again. He obliged the rogue, once again sending stars shooting across her vision and shivers through her entire body. She shuddered under him, stretching out on his enormous bed, her legs still wrapped firmly around his head.

Hawke looked up at the goddess spread out before him, the lust inside of him growing at the sight. All that tanned skin, those curves, all decorated with gold. Maker she was beautiful. And all his. With a final jolt of ice he removed his mouth from between her thighs and crawled up her body, shirking his breeches as he moved. Any protests of hers were cut off as he rubbed his erect cock against her wet lips, the rogue pushing her hips upwards, forcing the tip of his cock to enter her. Hawke growled and thrust into her, hooking her leg around his bicep, opening her up to him.

Isabela moved with expert thrusts, knowing exactly where would create the most pleasure for her, while still letting Hawke think it was him doing all the work. Men loved to think they knew how to pleasure a woman. Hawke growled and hoisted her leg higher, until it rested on his shoulder. "Isabela, I'm the one with the cock here," he thrust harder to prove his point. "Let me use it." The mage gathered the rogue's wrists in his large hand and pinned them to the bed, trapping her under his body. With her finally pinned down he was free to prove that he wasn't some drunkard who didn't know how to pleasure a woman with his cock, despite it being one of its main functions.

He drove into her heat, reaching further inside of her as his thrusts grew more and more powerful. Isabela moaned dramatically underneath him, writhing, trying desperately to regain the upper hand. Hawke slowed and thrust deep, punctuating each word with a thrust. "Isabela, stop the theatrics. Don't make me spank you." She relaxed under him then, enjoying this dominant side of Hawke, letting him take her. She had to give it to the mage, he knew what he was doing, unlike a lot of the other men she'd slept with.

_What are you doing? Take control! _Her sanity returned to her, questioning why she was submitting to this man, asking where the real Isabela had gone. Remembering what he'd said, she deftly freed her wrists from his grip and pulled herself up using his broad shoulders. The mage growled and glared at her, warning her to behave herself.

"Make me."

Without warning Hawke pulled out of her and flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. "I did warn you," he said raising his hand and bringing it across her firm buttocks. A crack sounded as his hand met her flesh, a moan of satisfaction escaping Isabela's lips. Before she had time to appreciate the hot tingles spreading across her skin, Hawke's cock was back inside of her, thrusting into her with renewed vigour. He set a brutal pace, his hands gripping onto her hips and using them to sink further into her. The rogue finally cracked, a low moan bursting from her mouth on its own accord. Hawke grinned to himself, listening to the beautiful purring moans that spilled out from the woman beneath him.

He tortured her, his pounding seemingly unending. She lost count of how many times she came, each one blurring into the next. She vaguely registered when the mage came himself, his grip on her hips so tight she thought she'd have bruises for the next week.

The two of them collapsed onto the bed, a grin plastered on the rogue's lips as she purred contently. Hawke stretched languidly on the bed, "Well…that was fun." He lied back on the plush pillows, his hands behind his head.

Isabela trailed a finger up his chiselled torso before rolling off the bed and searching the room for a washcloth. Hawke pointed to a small basin in the corner of the room. She thanked him and cleaned herself up, then turned to inspect her torn clothes. She huffed, "Well what am I supposed to wear now? You've ripped my only outfit."

Reluctantly Hawke dragged himself from the bed and went to his wardrobe. He rummaged around in it before pulling out a tied bundle and threw it at Isabela. "Here," he said simply. "I'm pretty sure your shirt didn't get ripped, just the corset."

The rogue opened up the bundle and stared at it in disbelief. "You can't be serious. Why do you have this?"

Hawke shrugged nonchalantly as Isabela held up the clothing inside. "I had it made a while back. You looked like you could do with some better protection."

"So you had armour made for me?" She inspected the clothing in her hands: a black leather corset with a metal pauldron, similar to the one already strapped to her arm. "Why? I manage – managed, perfectly well with my own armour thanks. And," she inspected the corset further, "fuck Hawke, is this _Dragonhide_? This shit's expensive!"

The mage sighed and rummaged in his wardrobe for something clean. "Just…put it on Isabela. It's made to fit you so it's not like I can give it to anyone else, not that anyone else would wear it. _Normal_ people wear clothes or armour. I just…thought you'd appreciate it. It's to your tastes after all, or am I wrong?" When she didn't immediately put it on he said, "Honestly Isabela, since when did you gain a conscience?"

Isabela straightened her back and placed her hands on her hips, "I haven't. Fine Hawke. I'll keep the damned armour if it'll shut you up." He grinned happily to himself, "But _only_ because I have nothing else to wear now thanks to you."

She retrieved her shirt from the floor and dressed, taking her time to get used to her new corset, the leather new and unworn. She had to admit, it was a nice corset, the leather supple yet tough. She swapped her pauldron for Hawke's, liking the extra security the metal gave her. She hated it when he was right, but this would offer her better protection that her old gear.

Isabela gathered up her daggers and sheathed them all in their rightful places, then retrieved her sash from the floor. She tutted in annoyance, the silk sash torn in half. The rogue rummaged around in her gear and pulled out a spare, this one with extra gold embroidery around the hem.

A flash of red in the corner of her eye caught the pirate's attention. She walked over to Hawke's writing desk and inspected the silken band. She held it up for him to see, "What is this? I don't remember this."

His head swivelled around to see what she was showing him. "Oh that. It's from when I served the Red Irons. I wore it to show I was one of theirs, you know, since I didn't have a shield to do that for me." The rogue slid the band up her arm, turning it this way and that, enjoying the feel of the material against her skin. Hawke laughed, "That fit on my wrist you know. It looks better on you than it ever did on me. You can keep it if you like. I never cared much for the Red Irons. I only went with them to get into the city, and because Carver liked them. I thought maybe if we joined them he might like me more. He didn't."

"You're brother's not so bad you know. He just wants some attention."

Hawke laughed, "Oh he gets that, just not the sort he wants." He sighed, "But you don't want to hear me rant about my brother." The mage sat back on his bed, tying his robe. "Well, this was fun. We should do it more often."

She giggled, "We should. I was curious about you sweet thing, and now my curiosity is…sated. I have to say, that was an interesting diversion, but I should go." With a final giggle she turned to the door and strolled towards the stairs, a satisfied sway in her hips and a smile on her face. _Yes, definitely sated. I should make this a regular occurrence. _

Hawke watched her leave, entranced by her swaying hips. "Oh Isabela. You'll be back. I know you will."


	2. FHawke x Fenris - Act 2

"So you're just going to leave?"

Hawke grabbed his arm, trying to turn him to face her. She would not let him leave like this. He'd given her a piece of his mind, now it was her turn. To her surprise she found herself being pushed against the wall, Fenris' lyrium markings flaring angrily. The two of them glared at each other, daring the other to do something, but they just stood there panting heavily, anger and confusion written on their faces.

Fenris' markings died out. _I nearly…Venhedis! _He moved away slowly, staring at his hands as he removed the from Hawke's arms, wondering how they had gotten there. He expected her to shout at him and tell him to leave. But she didn't. She lunged forward and kissed him, their teeth clacking together when they met. He wanted to fight, to push her away, but he found himself giving in to the rogue. He kissed her back, fighting for dominance. He lost, Hawke spinning them and pushing him against the wall, her tongue duelling with his.

As quickly as she'd pounced on him, Hawke pushed him away, the two of them stood panting in the hallway. She eyed him hungrily, her normally luminescent eyes now a stormy blue. Sarah stared at him a moment longer before she turned and headed into the living room. When Fenris didn't follow she turned on her heel. "Well? Are you coming?" she barked.

His eyes narrowed on her. Quick as a flash Fenris darted towards her, his arm wrapping around her waist and hoisting her into the air. He ran up the stairs, carrying the rogue like a petulant child under his arm, kicked the door to her room open and threw the rogue onto the bed. "Insufferable elf! I didn't tell you to pick me up!" complained Hawke, glaring at Fenris, who stood glowing at the foot of the bed.

"Yes, well I didn't tell you to kiss me yet here we are," he spat back, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to throttle this woman, yet other times he wanted nothing more than to take her right there and then. She pulled him down so he fell onto her on the bed, her mouth battling with his.

His gauntlet-clad hand wound in her hair, the spikes scraping her scalp and making her hiss in pain. "For fuck's sake Fenris! Take those fucking things off. You'll make me bleed otherwise and I'd rather not lose any more blood for you today thanks."

The elf growled, "Shall I remove my armour while I'm at it as well Hawke?"

"That'd be great. Thanks," she said sarcastically.

Fenris expertly undid the straps on his armour, throwing the spiked pieces on the floor with a loud clang. "You could at least join me Hawke and take off your damned robe," he gestured to her briefly before returning to his task. "I feel exposed enough as it is without you remaining fully clothed."

Hawke scoffed at him before shuffling to the edge of the bed, where she quickly pulled off her boots. Maker he infuriated her. He was the complete opposite of her, and yet so similar. His burning hatred of mages was all he could see, yet she saw an oppressed and misunderstood people – one which her sister was a part of. They were treated like slaves, locked up unless they were needed to heal people or perform menial tasks, yet he saw them as scum. The hypocrite! He should sympathise with them, not persecute them. And all because of one magister. He pissed her off so much at times, she wondered how she hadn't stuck her blades into his back yet.

Yet despite all of that she was infatuated with the elf. He was the only one who understood her desire for solitude, who shared her love of wine – no matter how cheap and bitter it tasted. He enjoyed her dark sense of humour, her joy at holding a man's life in your hands. No matter how much he despised her views on mages, he was always by her side, willing to fight for a cause he despised. In turn, she did the same for him, helping him even when she thought he was just as misguided as his views.

Even now in each other's company it seemed they wanted to tear each other's throats out. _Or maybe my heart. _

She untied her robe, too angry and worked up to care that this was the first time he would see her out of her armour. If he could do it, so could she. Although…

Her hands stilled, her anger fading as quickly as it had arisen. Fenris noticed her hesitation and eyed her with wary concern, his hands throwing the last of his chest plate to the floor, leaving him in only his leggings. "Hawke?" he asked warily, "Is everything alright?"

He stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. This was not the Hawke he knew. Heck, it wasn't even the Hawke from a few moments ago. This woman looked weak and indecisive. Hawke was angry and bitter and sarcastic, but not weak. This woman sat on the bed was not Hawke. _No, this is Sarah you idiot. A woman who's had the whole city's problems thrown at her with no one to help her, only add to the weight on her shoulders. _And here he was, adding to her weight once again.

"Would you like me to leave?"

Hawke gulped visibly before speaking, "No. It's just…No one's seen me naked since…" She paused, her eyes drifting off to some unknown memory. Sarah shook her head, "I'm sorry. Maker, I feel like such a fool!"

Fenris watched as the rogue clutched her robe to her and pulled her legs up to her chest. Swallowing thickly, he sat next to her on the bed. "You are no fool Hawke…_Sarah_. Whatever the problem is, you can talk to me about it." He placed an awkward hand on her knee, not knowing how best to comfort her.

Slowly, Hawke uncurled her body, stretching her legs out so her feet were flat on the floor, and began removing her robe. "Hawke, you don't need to," protested Fenris, a rare hint of concern in his voice.

Ignoring him she began pulling off her robe. "You've heard Varric's account of my fight against that ogre? Well, that's the romanticised version. This is the real version." She pulled off her robe and revealed a set of large, angry looking scars around her torso. "I didn't dodge out of the way in time and it grabbed me. It nearly crushed me to death, but Aveline finished it. That woman really is a human-shaped battering ram." She laughed weakly, the smile on her lips not quiet reaching her eyes. "Bethany did the best she could, but healing's never been her forte. Sure, I lived, but I'm stuck forever with these hideous things as a reminder of my brother's death!"

Her lip quivered, but she refused to cry. She had already cried for her brother so many times. Sure he'd been a pain in the arse, but he was _her _pain in the arse. Why did the idiot have to get cocky and run at that ogre? She'd always said his need for attention would land him in trouble. She just never thought it would kill him.

Seeing her anguish, Fenris did the only thing he assumed logical and pulled her into his arms. The voice inside his head screamed out against it, protesting against the physical contact, but he ignored it, focusing instead on how soft and warm Hawke's skin was against his rough calloused hands. She laid her head against his chest, inhaling his scent, trying to place the difference smells she found. Lyrium, sweat and wine.

"You fought bravely to defend your family Hawke. There is no shame in that." His hand found her chin and forced her to look at him, "You have no reason to feel ashamed of your scars. They are part of who you are and part of the beautiful, strong woman I see before me."

Hawke's hand settled on his cheek as she gazed into his large green eyes, searching for any trace of deceit, a sign that he was lying to make her feel better. Her breath caught in her throat when she found none, only pure passion and adoration there. She pulled him down to her and kissed him, momentarily catching him by surprise. Her hands wound in his hair as she pushed herself up, her head slightly above his.

Fenris pulled back slightly, "Are you sure Hawke? You don't have to feel obliged to continue if you don't feel comfortable."

Hawke ignored him, her mind made up, and placed his hands on her body, encouraging him to explore her. She kissed up his neck to his ear, "Would I do this if I wasn't sure?" She nibbled the tip of his ear, remembering him saying how sensitive they were. He shuddered underneath her and growled her name in warning. Ignoring him, she licked along the curve of his ear. "You don't scare me Fenris. Underneath the spikes and lyrium you're just a man, and men are easily 'dealt' with." She pushed her breasts against him to emphasise her point, enjoying how his markings flickered briefly into life at the contact.

"Hawke…" he growled, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, trying not to snap. This woman was going to be the death of him.

"Fenris," she breathed. "Stop worrying about me just because of my scars. You didn't before. I'm tough. I can handle it." She kissed down his neck as she spoke, her tongue flicking out to taste his salty skin as she worked towards his collar bone.

She quickly found herself on her back with Fenris glowing brightly above her. He held himself above her for a brief moment before attacking her mouth with his, teeth and tongues clashing together. Their earlier passion quickly returned, the fire between them roaring. Her hands began exploring his naked chest, following the lyrium under his skin, amazed at how normal it felt where the lines intersected his skin. His own hands explored her body, caressing her with a surprising tenderness, his fingertips dancing over the puckered skin with a feather-light gentleness. While his hands were kind, his mouth was not, attacking her neck, biting and sucking, bruising her skin between his teeth. Sarah moaned her pleasure, her own teeth sinking into his shoulder, making him hiss.

"Hawke," he said through clenched teeth. His leggings were becoming more and more uncomfortable, the tight material restricting his growing erection.

The rogue pressed her hips against his. "Say my name Fenris." She hooked herself around the elf and swung her weight so they shifted positions. Fenris was about to protest when her fingers danced around the top of his leggings, peeling the item down and off his legs, taking his smalls with them. Her name escaped his lips in a tormented groan. "Say it again Fenris." She shirked her own smalls and tossed them to the floor. The elf's green eyes locked on her as she climbed on top of him, his hands automatically reaching for her hips as she straddled him. She hovered over him teasingly, fighting against his grip as he tried to push her down onto him.

"Venhedis Hawke! Stop torturing me!" he growled, his markings flaring brightly and illuminating the room.

Undeterred she fought against his grip, refusing to back down. "Say. My. Name. Fenris."

Using all of his strength and speed he reversed their positions once again. "Fasta vass." He ground his cock against her and smirked when she mewled with need under him. Fenri ran his hand up her body, along her side, cupping her breast, settling on her throat. "Do you not know what you do to me Sarah? You drive me crazy. I can't stop thinking about you." He nipped at her neck as he spoke, pulling at her skin with his teeth until her breath caught. He pulled her hips to his, "I swear Sarah, you will be the death of me."

He sank into her heat, the two of them groaning at the sensation. It had been so long since Sarah had been with a man that his entry stung. He held himself still for a moment, his eyes burning with passion and desire. It was so hard to hold back, her tight heat so perfect, the feeling nothing like what he'd been made to endure with Danarius, but it was obvious that she needed time to adjust to his size. Despite the voice screaming inside of his head telling him to move, Fenris remained still and petted her comfortingly, trying to sooth her.

"Fenris, just move already," she breathed.

He didn't need telling twice. His hands settled on either side of her head and braced his weight, his hips snapping back before thrusting back into her heat again. _Pain. So much pain. Please, make it stop. _Shaking his head to clear his mind, he fixed his gaze on the woman beneath him and thrust harder into her. She winced slightly, but he continued regardless, his self-control running low. He didn't think he would last long. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever been the one in control. _This will be much easier for you if you just accept it. _He growled at the voice inside his head, willing it away. _Not now, _he thought, _not now. Why now? _

With her eyes squeezed shut Sarah was oblivious to the turmoil racking Fenris' mind. She would enjoy this. She had to. Fenris was not him. He wouldn't hurt her like he had. He'd already been so kind and tender, despite his borderline violent passion. He was not afraid of hurting her, something she was glad of. Each thrust reached far inside of her, his size larger than she had ever been used to. She wrapped her legs around his hips, the move changing the angle of Fenris' thrusts. She moaned her pleasure, spurring the elf on and he answered her eagerly, a low growl reverberating in his throat as his pace increased.

He fought against the echoing voices in his mind, her hold on him making it difficult to block out. He resisted the urge to grab her legs from his waist and throw them off. _I am not a slave, _rang like a chant in his mind, keeping him from breaking down around her. Sarah clung onto him like a limpet, her hands flying to his back after a particularly strong thrust. Her nails scored his back. _Do I have to whip you again elf? _His control snapped. He pounded her relentlessly, her wellbeing no longer his concern. His only thoughts were those of anger and fear and lust, of driving back the memories and pain with pure carnal pleasure.

The room flooded with light, Fenris' marking illuminating as he roared his orgasm to the ceiling, his back arching as he came inside of the rogue. He stayed inside of her for a few moments before rolling off her and collapsing onto the bed. He closed his eyes and let the bliss wash over him, embracing it gladly as it chased away the pain behind his eyes.

Hawke laid there next to him and squeezed her legs shut, suddenly very self-conscious. She risked a glance at the elf and saw his eyes squeezed tight, a pained expression on his face. _Oh Hawke, you fool. Looks like you've done it again. _She rolled onto her side, her back to the elf. She couldn't look at him. She'd been an idiot. He regretted it. She could tell. She hid her face in her pillow, trying to quell the tears building behind her eyes.

An arm wrapped around her waist and a lithe but strong body pressed against hers. "Hawke…" said Fenris softly, his voice like honey. He kissed down her neck, moving her pale hair away from her face as he kissed, trying to find her cheek. _You know you like this elf. Stop lying to yourself and give in to me. _He pulled back quickly, his mind still attacking him.

She remained relatively unresponsive, rolling over to meet him and accept his affection with blank eyes. He flinched slightly at the look in her eyes, reminded so much of the eyes he'd seen reflected in Danarius' after he'd been used as his play thing. _Don't be stupid. You are not him. _"Sarah, are you well?" He would not let their night turn sour.

"Nothing I can't handle Fenris," she smiled weakly, hoping it reassured him.

Fenris watched her curiously, noticing how her arms covered her torso from him. "You didn't come," he stated.

She laughed, "Should I have?"

"I was under the impression that sex is not fulfilling if you do not orgasm. I should to rectify that."

His hands began travelling down her body, but she stilled them with her own. "You don't have to do that Fenris. I'm fine. What we did was fine. Let's just…go to sleep, okay?" She yawned dramatically, "I'm tired, and I'm sure you are as well."

Before he could argue Hawke had rolled back over, her arms still firmly wrapped around her chest. He sighed quietly and joined her, making sure to keep a gap between them. He wasn't stupid. He could see she already regretted what they had done. She was probably pissed off at him too – though when wasn't she – for not thinking about her needs before his. He would apologise in the morning and leave her alone. This was nothing more than a stupid mistake brought about by anger and lust.

* * *

He couldn't sleep, his dreams plagued by flashes of his old life. He tossed and turned in bed, glad now that Hawke had kept her distance. He dressed silently, making sure he didn't wake the rogue. He would explain in the morning.

Fenris noticed a box on Hawke's desk with a tag on top. Though he couldn't read it, he recognised letters which formed his name on it. He opened the box and found a red band inside and her crest, small enough for him to wear on his belt. Closing the box he bowed his head and paced by the fire, contemplating what he would tell her.

* * *

The bed felt cold. Hawke rolled over to find Fenris gone from her bed. Her heart dropped. _I told you so. You're a fool. _A figure by the fire drew her attention. Fenris was stood with his back to her, leaning against the stone mantle. She slapped a fake smile on her lips and laughed, "Was it that bad?"

Fenris turned to look at her. _Shit. _"I'm sorry, it's not…it was fine." The smile on Hawke's face dropped, "No. That is insufficient. It was better than anything I could have dreamed."

Hawke sat up, keeping the covers tight around her torso. "Your markings…they hurt, don't they?" _How could I be so stupid? Of course they hurt. Fucking idiot! He must despise me for what we did. _

To her surprise Fenris shook his head. "It's not that." He started pacing, "I began to remember. My life before, just flashes…" he grimaced, "It's too much. This is too fast. I...I cannot do this."

Well that was not what she expected him to say. "Surely that's a good thing Fenris. I thought you wanted to know who you were."

He scowled, "Perhaps you don't realise how upsetting this is." He turned his back on her. He couldn't look at her, not with that hurt look on her face masked by a false smile. "I've never remembered anything, and to have it all come back in a rush, only to lose it…I can't…I can't." He risked a look at her, dreading the sight before him.

He was met with hurt and fury. "You think you're the only one who remembered things they'd long since lost Fenris? I…I let you in, and now you're going to run?" _Use your anger Hawke. It's all you have left now. _

Fenris hung his head, "I'm sorry. I feel like such a fool. This should never have happened in the first place. We let our anger get confused with lust. Forgive me."

And with that he turned and walked out of the mansion.

Hawke stared after him for a moment while her mind caught up with what had just happened. She felt a trickle down her cheek and wiped at it curiously. "Fuck," she sniffed, "not this shit again. You fucking idiot Sarah."

She cried herself to sleep that night, ignoring the concerned cries of Orana the next morning. She fetched her mother who let herself into her daughter's room. She took one look at her and pulled her into her arms. She didn't need to ask what had happened; she had heard enough before leaving the mansion the night before to give her daughter some privacy. Leandra let her daughter cry in her arms and wail about what had happened, telling her over and over again that she wasn't stupid and she should stop punishing herself.

"You both need time to clear your heads. Clearly he has his demons, and they will continue to haunt him until he deals with them. It could take a week or it could take a year, but one thing I do know Sarah is that when he has dealt with them he will realise how stupid he was by walking out on you." She lead her daughter off her bed out and of her bedroom, signalling for Orana to change the bedding quickly. "Come on. Let's get some food in you. Kirkwall can survive a day without you."

Hawke nodded her agreement, "You're right. Just...will you make sure this gets posted? Please." She pointed to the box on her desk.

Her mother nodded then lead her to the kitchen, eager to get her daughter away from her room. _And so it begins again..._


	3. FHawke x Fenris - Act 3

**I really like my rogue/Fenris pairing so I just had to do a sequel! Enjoy :D**

* * *

He paced in front of the fire place, too agitated to stay still. He'd finally got the blood out of his hair, but he could still feel it on him. Danarius was finally dead. He should be happy. Yet he wasn't. He hadn't been happy in years.

He heard the door to his dilapidated mansion open and slam shut. _Great, _he thought, _just who I need right now. _"_Fenris! I know you're in here_," he heard Hawke shout from below.

A few moments later she was in his room, walking towards him, as beautiful as ever. "Festi bei umo canavarum," he muttered angrily.

"Let me guess," said Hawke sarcastically, "you're upset? _Again_." Ever since that night he had grown colder with her, closing himself off to her. _It's for the best, _she reminded herself,_ He left you. He doesn't want you. _

Fenris snarled, "It means 'you will be the death of me'. Six years ago I decided to stay with you, in part because I owed you, but I also thought you could help me. And you did. Hadriana is dead. Danarius is dead. I am finally free. But none of it feels as it should. This freedom tastes like ashes." He shook his head, not knowing what was wrong with him.

"What do you want me to do about it Fenris? I helped free you, not that you weren't free already," she spat back. She did not need this shit again. She was sick of him blaming her for everything. It no longer angered her, just exhausted her.

The elf sighed, "You are not responsible for my misery. Why am I angry at you?" He seemed to think aloud, "I thought finding Varania would open up a new world for me, one that was lost forever. But it's gone and I can't get it back." He sat down, Hawke following his lead and sitting opposite him on a rickety bench. "What do I do now Hawke?"

He looked so lost. He had no purpose in life any more, nothing to fight for. She almost pitied him. "Surely there's something you want to do Fenris. Become a famous writer maybe?" she asked sarcastically."

"I don't think my reading is good enough for that yet Hawke," he chuckled before trailing off and sighing again. "Maybe it is time to leave this hatred behind. It's poison, yet I continue to swallow it. There is no one left to blame. What I have done I have done to myself."

Taking a chance, Hawke leaned forward and placed her hand over his, "You don't have to go through this alone Fenris." She was surprised when he didn't pull away, instead turning his hand over and taking her spiked gauntlet in his.

"Don't I?" he asked, a bemused tone lacing his velvety voice. He stared at the table, "We have…never discussed what happened between us all those years ago."

She shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant, "You didn't want to talk about it. I respected that wish."

He turned her hand over in his, "I felt like a fool. I thought it better if you hated me – more than you already did. I deserved no less." His hand stilled, "But it isn't better Hawke. That night…I remember your touch as if it was yesterday. I haven't stopped thinking about it, about you, craving you, wishing you'd forgive me." Fenris rose and moved closer to her. "I should have asked for your forgiveness long ago. I hope you can forgive me now."

Hawke stared at her feet, refusing to meet his eyes. She wanted to forgive him, but he had hurt her that night, more than he knew. "I need to understand why you left Fenris. I need to understand why you hurt me."

Fenris knelt to try and meet her eyes. He needed to do this. They had gone too long with this tension between them, the problems raised that night never resolved. "I've thought about the answer a thousand times. The pain, the memories it brought up…it was too much. I was a coward and I ran. I left without thinking about what effect it would have on you. If I could go back, I would stay and not leave you alone. I would tell you how I felt."

Her breath caught in her throat, "What would you have said?"

"Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you." His eyes burned into her, staring right into her soul. There was so much pain there, so much distrust. He could see the hard, but cracked, shell around her heart, struggling to protect it after such damage to it.

She swallowed thickly, "Well that's very eloquent Fenris, but I'm struggling to believe it. If you really felt that, you would have said something by now. Or at least stopped to ask how I was. But you didn't. You just carried on as if nothing had happened, then stared at me with hurt puppy eyes when you thought I wasn't looking."

The wall around her heart crumbled then, all the pain she'd kept at bay spilling out, "You aren't the only one with demons Fenris! Everyone I've ever trusted with my heart has torn it to shreds and thrown it at my feet. And then I let you in and I honestly thought you were different. But you weren't. You just left without a real explanation, my heart in your hand." Tears were streaming down her face, "And then you carried on as normal, arguing with me whilst wearing my token. So I pretended like nothing was wrong. After all, if you could, so could I. But I'm not Fenris. I'm not okay."

Her head fell into her hands, "I'm sorry Fenris, but I can't do this if you're just going to leave again. My heart can't take anyone else leaving me."

A strong hand lifted her chin and a pair of shining green eyes greeted her. "I am not going to leave you Hawke. If there is a future to be had, I will walk into it gladly by your side."

Her mouth was on his then, the two of them drowning in the other's taste. His hand wound in her hair, pulling her closer to him. She was addictive and he craved more of her. He had spent many a night lying awake, dreaming of her body, of her touch on his skin, each night as unfulfilling as the last. Reluctantly he pulled back, "Hawke…_Sarah, _I want to make things right. Name what I must do and it will be done."

She gnawed on her lip as she thought, noticing how Fenris' eyes watched her intently. "Well…how about dinner? At mine, tonight?"

He nodded, swallowing down the dread the idea of dinner brought about. He would do this for Hawke. "Dinner it is then."

"But, wear something nice. Nothing spikey and metal."

Fenris chuckled, "Okay, I think I can do that."

Hawke kissed him briefly before pulling away from his arms, "I should go then. Get ready, you know."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Would you like a drink before you go?"

She stood up, "I can't. I'm still covered in blood from earlier. It's going to take me hours to get it all out. But…thank you for the offer." She turned to leave, "I'll see you tonight?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world Hawke."

* * *

She couldn't sit still. She was so nervous. Not about the date per say, no, more about whether or not Fenris would even turn up. He'd left her once, what was to stop him from doing it again?

Hawke watched from the doorway to the dining room as Orana busied around, laying the table, rushing back to the kitchen to check on food. The elf had insisted on doing it all herself, stating that Hawke should get ready while she prepared the meal. Deciding it was best to get all of the blood out of her hair she let the elf work, but now she was left with nothing to do.

Noticing that Orana hadn't quite finished setting the table, she grabbed the box of matches from the side and lit the candles on it. _Shit, is this too much? _She considered blowing them back out and hiding them, but a knock on the door resolved the issue for her.

_Messere Fenris, Hawke said to expect you. She's just in living room, I think._

She heard a low voice thank Bodhan. _He came. He actually came. _She rushed through into her library, sticking to the shadows so Fenris didn't see her. Wanting to seem relaxed and nonchalant, she grabbed a random book off one of the bookshelves and sat in her chair in front of the fire.

"Hawke?" called Fenris, opening the door and poking his head through. "Oh, there you are. Bodhan let me in."

Sarah set the book down, "Fenris. I didn't hear you come in." She stood up to greet him, a warm smile on her lips.

"Wow Hawke. You look…wow." He stood staring, his jaw on the floor. He'd never seen her look so beautiful and feminine before. Orana must have done her hair, as it was plaited over her shoulder in a large, chunky Orlesian plait with a blue rose pinned to her snow white hair. Clinging to her lithe body was a dress of a midnight blue that complimented her cerulean eyes. He was surprised to see it was low cut, revealing some of her scars, including the ones left by the ogre he'd seen all those years ago. He swallowed thickly, the scars reminding him of that night, the best and worst night of his life.

Hawke blushed and looked away, "Thank you. You look very handsome yourself. You should lose the spikes more often."

"Only for you Hawke."

She smiled awkwardly then motioned towards the doorway. "Shall we?" She was about to lead the way when Fenris surprised her and held out his arm for her. After a moment's hesitation she took it, taken aback by the gesture.

Dinner went surprisingly well, considering neither one of them had any experience with dating or relationships. Although it was stifled and awkward at first, they quickly warmed up to each other, discussing everything and anything – though agreeing that the topic of mages should be avoided lest they tear each other's throats out. They discussed Fenris' life as a slave and Hawke's life in Lothering, both of them sharing their pain and comforting each other. Fenris shared with her what he had remembered from his previous life, how it fit in with what his sister had told him. He asked how she had been coping since her mother's death and apologised for how little he had been there for her. He also confessed that he had only gone to comfort her after Varric had threatened to sic Bianca on him if he didn't. She laughed at that before crying, the memory of her mother's death still fresh in her mind. Fenris rushed to her side and held her, doing what he should have done ages ago.

When they were done with dinner they retired to the library, the two of them curled up on a love seat in front of the fire which Fenris had never seen before until now. "That's because you never turn up for your reading lessons anymore."

He scratched his head awkwardly, "Ahh, yes. About that…"

"It's okay Fenris. I understand. Well, now I do." She kissed his cheek chastely, making him blush slightly, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"I do not deserve you Sarah."

"Yeah well, don't fuck it up again. I don't think I can forgive you if you crush my heart again." She closed her eyes, willing the tears building behind them to go away. Things were better now. He was back and he was going to stay. He had to. "But, enough of such gloomy subject matter. It's all we've spoken about tonight. I'd like to get onto something more pleasant."

Fenris raised an eyebrow at her, "Do you have something in mind, Hawke?"

The rogue smirked at him. "Maybe." She sat up and ran her tongue up his neck until she reached his ear, which she nipped the lobe of gently. "It depends though."

He groaned softly, "On what?"

"If you still want to talk?" Her hand snuck down his torso, tracing the contours of his muscles through his black silk shirt. She teased him, her hand inching lower and lower, edging closer to his groin.

Fenris pulled her onto his lap, "No, I don't." She grinned happily as she leaned down to kiss him, her hands tangling in his ivory hair. His arms wrapped around and pulled her close as they kissed, the feel of her amazing without his spiky armour on. He would have missed this, but they had never even gotten to this point in their relationship – if you could even call their constant fighting that. With this beautiful woman in his arms, he suddenly realised how incredibly lucky he was. He would be dead or worse a slave if it were not for her. He should be alone and angry at the world for no real reason in particular. But instead, despite tearing her heart out of her chest and stamping on it, she had offered him a second chance. He may have been stupid, but he did learn…eventually. He would not screw this up, not this time. He would treat her properly. He would be there for her when she needed him. He would stay.

"Fenris…" Hawke pulled away from him, her hands still wound in his hair. He answered dreamily, saying her name in reply. "I…I don't want it to be like last time. We weren't in a good place. We were angry and I was stubborn and we should have stopped when you asked if I wanted to, but me being me I thought if I didn't carry on you...wouldn't want me anymore."

The haze over his eyes lifted, his vision focusing on the woman in his arms. "You are not at fault Sarah. I – "

She placed a finger over his lips, "Shush. Let's not dwell on the past Fenris. Let's focus on what's going on right here, right now." She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards gently, so he sat back against the loveseat. She kissed down his neck, down his chest, undoing the buttons as she moved down his torso. Deciding to see what she was up to, Fenris sat up, earning himself a glare and an order to sit back and relax while Hawke 'looked after him'. He chuckled briefly before he trailed off into a low groan, her tongue finding his nipple.

She pulled open his shirt, licking her lips hungrily at the expanse of flesh before her. She'd never gotten a chance to fully admire him the last time they were together, they two of them more focused on removing their clothing than what was underneath it. Despite his hate of them, the lyrium burned under his skin was beautiful, the lines flowing across his skin like glowing veins. Despite his thin, elven frame he was well muscled, his defined abs emphasised by the swirling lyrium framing them.

Her hands teased the edge of his trousers, dancing along his hip line, noticing that there was nothing obstructing her access to him. Sarah raised a questioning eyebrow at him. "They were uncomfortable," he said defensively, a blush rising on his cheeks and reaching his ears.

"Well, we can't have that," she said, undoing the ties on his trousers. She realised again that she'd never really looked at Fenris during their last time together. He was impressive, she'd give him that. His leggings hid more than one would think possible, and she wondered in the back of her mind if the reason for his constant sour face was because his trousers were simply too tight.

She kissed down his stomach, batting away his hands when they tried to pull her back up. "Just enjoy it Fenris," she said looking up at him from between his thighs. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, only a low groan. His hands fisted the seat beneath him as her lips wrapped around his quickly stiffening erection. He didn't know if it was because she was his own personal angel or because he hadn't had a woman touch him in three years, but she felt divine, her tongue gliding over him as her mouth pumped up and down. Fenris quickly had to pull her off him, refusing to come yet. Hawke reluctantly let go, wiping her mouth with her thumb as she stood, watching smugly as Fenris' black eyes fixed on her lips.

He pulled her back onto his lap and kissed her hungrily, the salty taste on her tongue making him moan. His hands roamed her body, taking in every curve and muscle, noticing the way her skin dipped when his fingers traced over a scar. He kissed down her neck, chuckling slightly when her head flopped back, offering him more of her pale flesh. He kissed down her chest, glad that her low cut dress was easy to move out of the way. He slipped the material down her shoulders, his dark eyebrows raising at her in amusement. She looked down to see what he was smirking at. "What? Do you think I can wear a bra with a dress that comes this low down? Besides," she leaned forward so her lips were by his ear and her breasts were in front of his face, "I was hoping I wouldn't need it."

Fenris groaned in torment, her hot breath tickling his ear. "Sarah...I. Need. You." His hands grabbed her arse and took hold of her, supporting her weight in his arms. Her legs locked around his waist as he rose from the sofa, Sarah's arms wrapping around his neck as she resumed kissing him. He walked in the direction of the door, letting Sarah mumble directions against his lips when he got too close to a wall or doorway – he was baffled as to how she did it.

They fell onto the bed, Fenris quickly pushing himself back up and dragging off the rest of Sarah's dress and throwing it to the floor. In turn she took off his trousers while he finished taking off his shirt. They crawled up the bed together, stealing kisses during the entire short journey. They clung onto each other, amazed by the feel of their skin against the other's, their hands pulling the other closer to them.

The two of them kissed leisurely, neither one wanting to rush their reunion. They would savour it, make it last as long as they possibly could. They had rushed their first time together. They would not make the same mistake again.

Their hands began reacquainting themselves with their bodies, exploring the hard planes and soft curves, tanned skin against porcelain white. Fenris traced the puckered lines of claw marks on Sarah's torso, surprised to see them in exactly the same state as three years ago. Despite the vast collection of scars on her body, they still stood out the most, along with one other: an angry looking scar just under her sternum, the width of a broadsword.

Fenris circled the scar with his finger, "I don't remember this."

"That's because it's new. The Arishok gave me it. You know, when I duelled him to save Isabela's thieving arse."

He chuckled, "I don't think she realises how much she owes you for that." He rolled so she was underneath him and crawled down her body until her hovered over her sternum. "I'm glad that horned bastard is dead," he kissed the scar, "I won't let anyone else hurt you Hawke." His eyes burned with a fierce intensity that held such sincere promise that she couldn't help but believe him. He kissed her skin again, "Nor will I." He continued down her body, his lips trailing over her skin as he moved. "You truly are beautiful Sarah," he murmured, parting her legs. Hawke mumbled weakly that he didn't have to, but he simply said, "Just enjoy it Sarah," before smirking and burying his head between her thighs.

She didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't it. His tongue felt like magic, touching her in ways she'd never been touched by the thugs of men she'd been with before. Her hands fisted the bed, his mouth working the bundle of nerves that shot fire through her veins and sent shivers down her spine. He coaxed her, urged her to relax for him and let go. She tried to listen, but it was so difficult, his tongue making her stomach knot tighter and tighter and tighter. A long, slender finger joined his tongue, probing her and thrusting experimentally, turning this way and that to try and find the best reaction. She moaned loudly and involuntarily. Fenris repeated the last motion he had done, crooking his finger while still licking, causing a string of moans to spill from Hawke's mouth. Her hands tightened in the bed sheets, her knuckles white, Fenris' name falling from her lips, the knot in her stomach tightening and tightening until…

Sheer bliss. It was like when Anders gave her too much morphine, only she wasn't injured. Far from it. She was floating, unable to move her limbs, but unable to be bothered to try and move. She was vaguely aware of calling Fenris' name, of him kissing up her body and asking if she was okay. She simply smiled dreamily back at him, mumbling something that resembled a "Definitely okay." Fenris chuckled, the sight of this strong woman now a pile of goo before him as bizarre and amusing as it was satisfying.

He began nipping at her neck and ears, trying to get her attention. When she only mumbled in reply, he bit the crook of her neck sharply, earning a yelp and an intake of breath from the woman beneath him. "I don't think you understand Sarah. I need you. All of you. Right now."

He had her attention. Despite the slight shake in her legs, Sarah wrapped them around his waist and pulled his hips down to hers. "I am yours."

Fenris growled, his hands cupping her buttocks and lifting her hips. His eyes held hers, green locked with blue, searching for her consent. She nodded minutely then pushed herself up and kissed him, their tongues dancing together as he pulled her to him and entered her.

There was no pain this time, only pleasure. Fenris gave Sarah a moment to adjust before rolling his hips and sinking further into her heat. It felt so different to last time, the incident branded into her memory forever. It was so tender, so intimate, so loving, each thrust powerful yet gentle, sending waves of pleasure through her with each thrust. He moved with leisurely purpose, content to enjoy the fire coursing through his veins, but eager for more. Gripping her buttocks tighter Fenris spun the two of them until their positions were reversed, hilting him fully into Hawke as he brought her down on him. She moaned at the sensation, his cock hitting the sweet spot deep inside of her. "What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

Fenris continued thrusting, using his grip on her behind to lift her before sinking back into her heat. "Making this last as long as possible. This is too good to end, and believe me Hawke, I wouldn't have lasted long with you like that. Do you know how good you feel?"

Hawke adjusted her position and took over, her hands settling on Fenris' pelvis and holding him down. His own hands moved and explored her chest, his eyes seeing only her sweeping curves and soft skin. She rode him slowly, savouring the feel of his hands caressing her skin and his cock deep inside of her, the smell of sex and sweat and lyrium clinging to her nostrils, the salty sweet mixture of their juices on her tongue. Fenris let her take the reins, watching her adjust the angle of her hips and moaning her pleasant surprise to the ceiling. He felt her clamp around him, her heat so hot and tight, and she collapsed onto his chest with a breathless moan, his cock still buried in her. He kept thrusting, making her pant heavily in his ear, her hot breath tickling his skin. His hands returned to her luscious rear and guided her hips up and down again, urging her on.

"Fenris…I don't think I can…ahhh! Fenris!" Sarah bit down on the elf's neck, another wave of bliss washing over her. This was all so new and she was definitely not used to it. She couldn't last much longer, the shaking in her legs becoming too much.

Fenris groaned, reluctant to grant her wish, but eager to find his own completion as well. No longer caring for romanticism, he threw the rogue off and drew her up again by her hips until she stood on her hands and knees. He slammed into her, pounding her with renewed vigour. He didn't last long, all his built up tension from earlier already on the verge of snapping. Fenris thrust erratically before exploding inside of her at last, his seed branding her as his.

Sarah's arms gave out them, the two of them collapsing on the bed unceremoniously in a sweaty heap. They chuckled weakly, the bliss washing over them dulling their ability to move or speak properly. Somehow they found their way to the top of the bed where they curled up together and fell asleep, Hawke's head nestled against Fenris' chest.

* * *

She awoke to find a warm body pressed against her back. Sarah opened her eyes and sleepily turned to look at the person behind her. _Fenris. _She smiled, wondering if she was dreaming. _Most likely. Any moment now I'll wake up and find myself alone. Again. _

The elf stirred, as if sensing her gaze on him, and blinked, his eyes smiling at her. "Good morning," he mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Hawke smiled back at him, "Mornin'. You stayed."

"I did. And I am very glad of it." He leaned down and kissed her nose, it being the only place he could reach from their position. Sarah turned in his arms to look at him, still half-convinced she was asleep. She placed a hand on his cheek, which he kissed tenderly, making her giggle like a little girl. "You are a wonder Hawke," he said bewildered. "If the others could see you now, giggling and looking so…innocent. They would not recognise you."

She pouted, "Innocent? I am not innocent. I kill people."

"No?" he asked. "So the displays of honesty and openness were all an act then? It's not a bad thing Hawke, it's something I admire in you. I find it difficult to open up to people, as you know, so that you trust me enough to do so with me is highly flattering."

She eyed him for a moment, "Yes well, let's not let it get out shall we. We don't want the others knowing I have a soft side."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he chuckled, kissing her hair whilst pulling her further into his arms. They laid in bed for what seemed for hours, neither one wanting to move.

The distant knock on the door pulled them out of their bubble of bliss.

_She's upstairs in bed messere. Would you like to wait for her?_

_No need. I'll go wake her up. _

By the time either of them had enough sense to move, Aveline was already heading up the stairs to Hawke's room, taking in the path of destruction leading to it. "Hawke?" she called, knocking on her door before opening it. Fenris and Hawke were sat bolt upright in her bed, the covers pulled up to their chests. Aveline took one look at the couple and backed out of the room, mumbling "I'll come back later" as she left.

Fenris and Hawke burst out laughing, the blush on the warrior's cheeks as red as her hair. When their laughter died down Hawke called for Orana to draw a bath for her and Fenris, the two of them accepting that they would have to get to work today, though _after _a bath, the two of them smelling heavily of sex and sweat.

It was obvious Aveline had told the others what she'd seen, the group gawking at them as Fenris and Hawke entered the Hanged Man that morning. Varric pestered them for details, but all he got was a bout of laughter from the couple. He shook his head, working out how much alcohol it would take to get the two of them drunk. He would get his details sooner or later if it was the last thing he did.


	4. FHawke x Fenris - Drunken Ramblings

"Broody, you made it. And just in time for the show. Hawke's started without you."

Fenris looked to where Varric indicated and saw Hawke finishing off what appeared to be her second bottle of wine– judging by the empty bottle next to her. The elf sighed and scanned the table, his shoulders slumping when he noticed that the only available seat left around the table was facing Hawke. _Great. She'll just _love _that. _Reluctantly he walked over to the table and sat down, snatching a bottle of wine from Anders' grasp and downing as much as he could in one go. Anders complained immediately at him, but Fenris quickly snapped back at the mage. "It's not like you have any use for it abomination."

"That doesn't mean you can just snatch it from me _dog_."

Hawke groaned and rubbed her temples, "For the love of Andraste, will you two give it a rest? You've been together for all of five seconds and you're already at each other's throats. Just fuck each other and get it out of your systems." Fenris growled at the rogue and slammed his fists on the table. The elf shot out of his seat and his markings began glowing in rage, "Oh calm down already Fenris. I know you're not gay. You ogle Isabela's tits _far_ too much to be gay. It was a joke. You remember what those are right?"

His markings fizzled out and he slumped back in his seat, "Yes, they're those things you make all the time at _my _expense." He crossed his arms and scowled at the table, wishing he had more alcohol, _much _more.

"That's not true. I make them at my enemies' expense as well." Sarah grinned before holding out her bottle to the elf in a toast. The elf snorted at her hollow gesture and rolled his eyes, making the rogue laugh before finishing the rest of her wine and calling for another bottle. "You in for Wicked Grace, or are you going to keep scowling?"

"Deal me in," he said to Varric, ignoring the rogue opposite him. "And someone get me some wine."

To his surprise – and annoyance – Merrill came running over with two fresh bottles of wine and handed one to Fenris, the other going across the table to Hawke. "Is everything alright Fenris? You seem especially grumpy tonight. Did you bang your head on the way in? Or maybe you trod in something questionable on the way here. I've done that before and – "

"I'm fine," he growled, snatching the bottle from the elf's hands and uncorking it with his teeth. Merrill blinked at him a few times in shock then took her seat again next to Isabela, the pirate cooing reassuringly at the elven mage.

"It's okay kitten, he's just grumpy because he hasn't had sex in years. I've told you before Fenris, I'm always willing to help a friend in need." The pirate winked at him and flashed him her ample bosom, grinning when his eyes involuntarily drifted their way. "Of course, that's _after _I've fleeced the lot of you of your money."

As it turned out, it was Varric who fleeced them all, not Isabela. Between Hawke's drunken state and Anders' incompetence at cards, Fenris' wandering mind and Merrill's naivety, he managed to beat all of them at Wicked Grace and gain ten sovereigns and eight bits – though no one quite knew who the bits had belonged to since they always agreed a minimum amount of one sovereign. Even Isabela fell victim to him, the dwarf's tricks and cheats simply better than hers that night.

Their alcohol intake increased twofold after that. Hawke and Isabela, ashamed that the dwarf had out-conned them, decided the best course of action was to drink until they forgot it had happened, or until they came to terms with it, whichever came first. In her drunken state Hawke's snide jokes increased, causing Fenris to down bottle after bottle of wine to try not to tear her throat out for it; he liked her throat, and her, and killing her would not be a good idea at all. Anders simply watched, wishing desperately that Justice would let him get drunk, just once.

After her fourth bottle of watered down swill, Hawkes' short-temper became a problem. She and Fenris were once again at each other's throats arguing about mages and freedom and all the usual things they argued about. At one point Justice came out to play, but Hawke quickly told him to go the fuck away and leave Anders alone. The mage quickly left after that, deciding it better for him to return to his clinic rather than risk Justice coming out again at the mention of mage's freedom.

Right on cue, after an explosive burst of rage, Hawke fell fast asleep, collapsing on the table with a loud thud. "I think it may be time to call it a night. Fenris, you mind?" Varric nodded towards the sleeping rogue, her cheek planted firmly against the wood of the table.

Fenris glowered at the dwarf, who simply shrugged his shoulders at him nonchalantly. Sighing, Fenris resigned himself to accepting the task and carefully placed the rogue on his back, holding her arms to his chest with one hand and her legs around his waist with his other. "Thanks broody," said Varric as he turned to leave the dwarf's palatial suite, "Don't drop her."

The elf rolled his eyes and set off on the long walk back to Hightown. "Why am I always the one who has to do this?" he asked, grumbling to himself as he trudged up the steps from Lowtown.

"Becausche," slurred Hawke sleepily over his shoulder, "Aveline is working scho can't take me home, Schebastian wouldn't be able to carry me without blushing and getting an erection, and scho that leaves you – _hic_." She snuggled against his shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the spikes in her drunken state.

"Ahh, the Champion awakes at last." Fenris chuckled quietly to himself, despite his annoyance at Hawke. He always got shouldered with the task of helping the rogue home, despite him usually being in just as drunken a state as her – he just knew how to not pass out.

She prodded his shoulder, "That's the fearless and mighty Champion of Kirkwall to you mister glowy elf and don't you forget it." His hair tickled her face as he shook his head and chuckled, louder this time, his deep voice rumbling through her body and sending shivers straight to her nether regions. _Ohh Maker, how I'd love to jump him! No, control yourself. He walked out on you, remember. _

_That doesn't mean I can't dream._

Fenris stopped suddenly, "Since you're awake again you can walk." He let go of his hold on her legs, but Hawke wrapped them firmly around his waist and held on.

"No I can't. My legs don't work. They've developed thisch bizarre thing where they randomly lock and I can't unlock them. Look." As if to demonstrate her point she shuffled slightly on his back, feigning an attempt to unlock her legs, but succeeding only in thrusting her crotch against his arse. Fenris groaned in exhaustion and carried on walking, realising that whilst the rogue was awake, she was far from sober and he was an idiot if he thought she'd comply with him in this state.

He huffed, "Fine, but if you fall it's not my fault. You can catch yourself."

"That's fine with me Fenny-baby, I do it all the time. Especially around you." She snuggled further into his shoulder, oblivious to the growling her nickname for the elf elicited. "Maker knows how hard it isch for me to be around you. I mean, you broke my heart Fenris, yet I can't go a day without seeing you. Scho I have to stay guarded and pretend I'm fine or pissed off at you – which I am, but not like I usched to be."

"Hawke…"He needed to get her to stop talking before she said anything she'd regret. _She's drunk, nothing more. This is just the alcohol talking, not her. Although…_He had noticed her guard slip around him at times, showing how tired she looked, but then she would catch him watching her and her stone mask would raise again like it had never left. _And I am the cause of it. No wonder she hates me. _

"Schush Fenris, momma Hawke is talking." He yelped in pain as the rogue tried to place her finger over his lips, finding instead his nose and poking it. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, telling you how it's _agony_ every schingle fucking day for me to be around you. I mean, if you wanted a shag you should have asked Isabela. Although from what I've heard you probably are, scho that's fine. I wonder if her pussy causes you as much pain asch mine did, or was it because of my scars. I can understand that. They are hideous. If I could I'd not look at them, but they're kinda part of me, ya know. I can't just take off my skin." She began giggling to herself then, a bizarre image forming in her mind of her peeling off her skin like it was rubber.

Fenris gulped at the drunken confessions spilling out of the rogue's mouth. He stopped, the two of them at the entrance to Hightown. "Erm, Hawke? You're going to have to walk from here. You know how dangerous the streets can be at night and I can't fight with you on my back."

Even with her brain not quite functioning normally, Hawke knew it was best that she get off his back. The rogue jumped down dramatically, taking time to pose and say, "Ta da!" before noticing Fenris' glare and placing her finger over her lips and shushing herself. The elf rolled his eyes and moved to the shadows, the rogue following him. Despite her drunken state, she was still exceptionally efficient at being stealthy.

To their surprise, they encountered little trouble. One group of thieves decided to try their luck, spotting first two people skulking through the shadows and second who those two people were. Luckily there were only a few thieves, enough for Fenris and Hawke to deal with alone. A few times the elf had to dodge a stray dagger from Hawke, her brain seemingly unable to differentiate him from the criminals. _Or she's lashing out on purpose,_ his paranoia whispered.

Eventually they reached her mansion. Fenris knocked on the door for Bodhan to deal with her as usual, but her fingers locked around his bicep and she begged him to stay. He sighed and agreed, knowing what she gets like when she's drunk and knowing how futile it would be to argue. _I'll just sneak out when she's fallen asleep._

_Like last time…?_

He swallowed down the thought and followed her inside, catching her when she tripped over her own feet.

Fenris always found it odd watching Hawke drunk; everything he knew about her flew out the window. While she still had her temper, its triggers were completely different – although the topic of mages' freedom would still rile her up. Her usual frown was replaced with childish giggling and face-splitting grins. She flirted with everyone and anyone, including the abomination and witch, despite having no romantic interest in any of them - at least none to his knowledge.

Bodhan was there as soon as they entered the living room. "Thank you for helping her home messere. I don't know what she'd do without you." Fenris coughed awkwardly at the dwarf's words. He still wasn't used to receiving people's thanks, even after all these years. "Messere Fenris, would you make sure she makes it safely upstairs please? I'm not tall enough to help her when she's like this." The dwarf looked down at his hands, reluctant to ask this of the elf, but knowing it would be much easier if he was there. Bodhan remembered the last time she'd come home drunk. He'd had to try and carry her inside, reaching only the living room before his back gave out. In the end he and Orana had dragged her to the fur rung in front of the fire and found her a blanket and pillow, the idea of trying to actually get her to her bed as unrealistic as it was achievable.

"Come on Fenris, take me to bed," Hawke giggled childishly into her hands and Fenris sighed at her again.

He slung her over his shoulder, the rogue's giggling increasing as her vision began to spin and blur again. "I will help you up and then I shall return to the mansion. I've done more than enough for you ton – _Hawke_," he barked at the drunken woman over his shoulder, "Cut that out _now._" Behind him the rogue pouted childishly and crossed her arms.

"Schpoil schport. I was only schpanking your bum." Fenris sighed and pushed open the door to Hawke's room. It looked like how he remembered it: luxurious, plush, and relatively unused. The fire in her room was already burning, most likely thanks to Bodhan or Orana, casting an orange light around the room which didn't quite reach the farthest reaches of her bedroom. The covers of her bed were already pulled back, but the bed itself was otherwise made.

Fenris set her down near the bed, not wanting to throw her onto it. _Not like last time… _He shook his head, willing the memory of his previous visit away. _Three years…Three long years since that night. No, it does not do well to dwell on the past. Forget this silly nonsese! _Despite his best efforts the memory of that night came flooding back, hitting him with such intensity it felt like he was being slapped across the face. He could imagine her baring herself for him, her tongue teasing him, her tight heat enveloping him. He remembered it all like it was yesterday, yet part of him was convinced it had all been a dream. Hawke never spoke of their night together, yet she clearly acknowledged its existence, if her icy mood whenever she was around him was any indicator.

He turned to leave, eager to get out of her room. His task was more than done, he had no reason to stay there any longer than necessary. "That's fine. You can leave. It's not like I care."

Her quiet voice made his step falter. "Hawke…"

"No, go. I'll be fine. I'm always fine." She turned away from him, leaving the elf stood in the doorway, torn as to if he should leave or not. "It's not like I'm not usched to it. First Aidan, then Max, and now you. You'd think I'd learn, but I clearly never do. I'm still just a fucking uscheless child and that's all I'll clearly ever be."

She jumped in surprise as a hand touched her shoulder. "Hawke, please…"

"Just leave. Don't stay becausche you pity me Fenris. You didn't last time." She shrugged out of his hold and began removing her boots with surprisingly little difficulty.

Fenris lingered a moment before turning to leave, his shoulders slumped and his head low. _Hopefully she won't remember this in the morning. I hope I don't. _


End file.
